“Bennett!”
Mike’s voice cut across the room before I even saw him. He barreled through the crowd with a beer in hand and the same grin he always wore. He clapped me on the back hard enough to rattle my teeth. “You actually showed up!”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, steadying myself. “Brought someone I want you to meet.”
Camille hovered close, her curls catching the warm light, eyes wary but steady. I slipped an arm around her waist,drawing her in. “This is Camille.”
Mike’s grin widened. “Nice to finally meet the woman who tamed him.” He said, slapping me on the back.
Her cheeks flushed, and I felt her stiffen, but I squeezed her side gently. “Ignore him,” I murmured. “He thinks he’s funny.”
She glanced at me, lips twitching. “I’ve noticed you keep those kinds of friends.”
“Occupational hazard.” I teased.
One by one, the guys filtered over: Nick, with his dry humor and that knowing look that always felt like a quiet check-in; Logan, tall and solid, a little quieter now that life had slowed him down, his daughter Harper tucked against his shoulder.
Nick raised an eyebrow as he reached us. “Well, hell. Bennett’s domesticated.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nice to see you too.”
Camille held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Camille.”
Nick took it with a grin. “We’ve heard plenty. Glad to see you’re real. We were starting to think he was lying.”
Logan chuckled. “Yeah, man’s been smiling at his phone like a teenager.”
Camille laughed, the tension in her posture melting away as she glanced at me.
“Camille,” Logan said, shifting Harper into her arms. “This is my daughter, Harper.”
Harper blinked at Camille, then reached out to touch her necklace, fingers tracing the tiny pendant.
“Pretty,” Harper said solemnly.
“Thank you,” Camille whispered, her smile so soft it hurt to look at.
Logan’s eyes met mine over their heads, a small grin tugging at his mouth.
“She’s good with kids,” he said later, low enough only I could hear.
“She’s got three,” I said. “Good ones. You should bring Harper by sometime. They’d love her.”
Logan nodded. “Yeah, we can do that.”
Across the room, Nick whistled. “Listen to you — already making play dates. Guess you’re officially one of us now.”
I smirked. “You’re just jealous I get to sleep past six a.m.”
Nick laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Give it time. You’ll join the club soon enough.”
We drifted toward the kitchen, the noise growing louder as beers were cracked open and stories got taller. It was comfortable…too comfortable, maybe.
I wasn’t standing outside looking in. I was in it. Surrounded by laughter, music, people I trusted, and Camille right in the middle of it all. Glowing in a way that I couldn’t stop watching.
Somewhere between Mike’s bad jokes and Sarah’s brownies (which I only got one of, because Camille beat me to seconds), I realized the truth.
This wasn’t just about proving she fit into my world. It was about me realizing she had already been a part of it.
